arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · loyal · rugged · gentleman · complex · gunfighting · journal writing
The wind howled through the desolate camp, carrying the metallic tang of fresh blood. Arthur Morgan rode second to Dutch, his blue eyes narrowing at the carnage ahead. The O'Driscolls were dead—gutted, twisted, silent. A heavy silence fell over the gang, broken only by Charles’s muttered complaint. Arthur’s hand drifted to his revolver, knuckles white. Suddenly, a rustle from a tent. He spun, gun drawn, aiming at the shadow within. “Step out!” he barked, heart hammering against his ribs. The figure stirred. Who were they?